


A Little Unsteady

by celeste9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extra Treat, F/F, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-27 02:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: Amilyn comforts Leia in one of her most difficult moments.





	A Little Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ljparis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ljparis/gifts).



> The title is from X Ambassadors.

Amilyn’s hair is green, like sea foam, light, loose curls like a wave around her head. The apartment has felt cold and empty since… since… but Amilyn fills it, makes it feel, if not quite like a home, at least livable in again.

The words are clearly on Amilyn’s mind but she doesn’t give voice to them. _Have you heard anything, have you heard from your brother, where is Han, did Ben really…_

Instead Amilyn sits quietly by Leia on the sofa and cards her long fingers gently through Leia’s hair, loose and unbound, and this is why Leia has always, always loved her.

“I thought you had a meeting,” Leia says, and her words sound oddly loud to her own ears, ringing in the silence.

“Canceled it,” Amilyn says, the upward shrugging movement of her shoulders vibrating against Leia’s body. “You see, I have this friend, known her for decades, and she’s going through something. Means I’m needed more elsewhere.” Her voice has a smile in it that Leia can hear. “Besides, it was going to be boring.”

Leia laughs, startled, and then her heart clenches, because how can she be _laughing,_ Ben is… is… She doesn’t realize, consciously, that she’s crying until she has to sniff through her runny nose, tears trickling down her face. Amilyn is holding her, her voice a soft murmur, and Leia has never really been a crier but somehow she can’t stop, now that she’s started.

She doesn’t need to listen to know that Amilyn’s soothing stream of words probably amounts to something like, _Cry it out, my love, never be afraid to feel your emotions. I’m here for you._

When Leia cries so much it feels as though she has sapped all the hydration from her body, she feels tired and wrung-out, her eyes aching and difficult to keep open. She knows she must look like a wreck; happily, there is no one here who minds. She sniffles and feels disgusting. Amilyn is still holding her.

“This would be a sight for the HoloNet,” Leia says, trying to make light of it. Amilyn’s hand is at the back of her neck, a constant, reassuring weight. “Have you…” She clears her throat. “I suppose you must have seen what they’re saying.”

“Rubbish,” Amilyn says. “Same as always.”

She is right, of course. It’s mean gossip with minimal regard for fact and no regard at all for the emotional well-being of the individuals involved. Leia has a thick skin; she is far from unused to being trashed in the media.

It hurts worse when it is her family being attacked. When the truth of her parentage came to light, it wasn’t for herself that Leia was hurt, really; she was worried for Ben, and she was frustrated by the way it made her word seem less trustworthy. (That last part, of course, had been the aim all along, she knows.)

It is the same now. Leia can be angry but she won’t have strangers rudely speculating and making accusations about her family. They can say what they want of her, but it hurts her to see ill being spoken of her brother, of her… her…

Stars. Ben.

It is better when they assume he died with the other children. She desires no digging into the tragedy, no reporters wondering whether his body was recovered, wondering whether he is missing, wondering what that means.

“You know it’s rubbish, don’t you?” Amilyn says, her thumb rubbing at the base of Leia’s neck. “I know you’re smarter than to believe it.”

“Yes,” Leia says, and falls quiet.

“Leia,” Amilyn says, and shifts to face her better. “Leia, you know this isn’t your fault. Please tell me you know that.”

“Then whose fault is it?” Leia exclaims. “He’s my son! I sent him to Luke!” The words carry bitterness with them, bitterness and regret, like a poison in her heart.  

 _I did this,_ she thinks, _I did this._

She felt the darkness when he was growing inside her; it had scared her. Something seeking her son, her son’s power, wanting to corrupt him. The Dark Side, she supposed, the nebulous evil in the galaxy. She had seen it, too, when he grew, in the form of his nightmares, and she had seen the things he could do, so much more than she could have imagined. She had been away too much, too focused on the New Republic, and she hadn’t known what to do with a son so strong and yet so fragile in so many ways.

Leia made mistakes. Those mistakes had a cost.

“Blaming yourself won’t help you,” Amilyn says, “and it won’t help Ben. It won’t help anyone. It will only harden your pain into something ugly and unmanageable.”

Leia can’t make herself meet Amilyn’s blue eyes, eyes that know her too well. “If I blame myself, it stops me from blaming Luke, and Han, and… it stops me from blaming Ben. I would rather hate myself than them.”

She can’t hate Ben.

When Leia finally makes herself look at Amilyn, her friend’s face is soft and understanding. She says, “What can I do to help you right now?”

“Short of finding my son or my brother,” Leia says, “if you would just sit with me, that… that will do.”

Amilyn leans closer, her arm around Leia’s shoulders, and Leia tips her head to rest against Amilyn’s. “You know I’d do that if I could. Bring them to you.”

“I know.” They sit quietly for a while longer and it helps a little. Amilyn always helps, her comforting, supportive presence, and she always seems to know when to push and when not to.

The silence stretches and Leia turns her head to breathe Amilyn in. “Please,” she says softly. “Amilyn, please be with me,” she says, because she needs this, needs to feel something better than the ache in her heart, needs the warmth and goodness only Amilyn can give her.

“Yes,” Amilyn says, and it’s as simple as that, as Amilyn pulls Leia closer and kisses her skin.

It won’t fix anything, Leia knows, but perhaps it might make what’s coming just a little bit easier to face.


End file.
